


A Half Proposal

by AlwaysAmused, DaughterOfDungeonBat



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Syndicate, Canon Trans Character, Established Relationship, Fluff, Jacob is an overgrown puppy okay, M/M, Marriage Proposal, and Ned is always one for legal loopholes, mentions of period typical homophobia, period-typical internalized transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:25:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysAmused/pseuds/AlwaysAmused, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfDungeonBat/pseuds/DaughterOfDungeonBat
Summary: “Ever think about being somebody’s husband?”In which Ned has a proposition of questionable legality and Jacob needs a few heavy hints. Fluff ensues.





	A Half Proposal

Sleeping next to Jacob Frye was like attempting to lie peacefully next to a golden retriever puppy. He curled around Ned until their legs were tangled together and Jacob’s stubble had scratched Ned’s skin raw from his chin to his collar bone. Not to mention the wet kisses and the near-constant wriggling that was usually accompanied by pleased humming. It was it impossible for Ned to fall asleep when the oaf was snuggled up against him with one arm in a vice-grip over his stomach. At least once they had permanently moved in to Ned’s apartment, they had a bit more room to maneuver. 

“You’re lovely.” Jacob said quietly, brushing his surprisingly nimble fingers over Ned’s hand, the one that held his copy of The Woman in White propped against his chest. He was splayed over Ned as he usually was, the heat of his bare chest seeping easily through the thin material of Ned’s tight undershirt.

“Not too hard on the eyes yourself, Frye.” Ned replied, tilting his cheek into Jacob’s hair, not sure if the stale but sour smell of the Thames sticking to the brown mess made him want to gag or grin. Jacob hummed and hid a smile against Ned’s neck, every joint in his body seeming to shift in glee. For once, Ned didn’t roll his eyes. He was able to get a few more pages in before Jacob shifted again, this time more clearly displeased. This time, Ned rolled his eyes. He folded his page over and tossed the book aside, wincing at the thud that sounded as the novel hit the floor, though knowing that he could never extract himself enough from Jacob’s weight to set his poor book on the bedside table. Ned opened his arms wide, suppressing a smile as Jacob nearly leaped into his arms, one step away from purring. 

It was then, with Jacob splayed across his chest and pressed so close they were practically one, that a simple fact crossed Ned’s mind again, the fact that he had felt curling like a deadly snake on the back of his tongue, coiled to strike and envenom whatever shaky ground he and Jacob stood on with visions of frilly dresses and dowry payments. It was a factor that Ned had realized some time before, though it hadn’t been relevant until he and Jacob became a couple. He had mostly had relationships with women, an even those were short flings, since men who fancied other men were hard to come by, though not nearly as hard to come by as men who were willing to be with men like Ned. 

As if sensing Ned’s conflict, Jacob somehow shifted closer, sliding one leg over Ned’s own and pressing a kiss to his jaw. Ned gave a half-hearted eye roll and leaned in to his embrace, rooting one hand in Jacob’s hair and scratching on his scalp. 

“Love you.” Jacob said, stretching all over and leaning into Ned’s hand.

“Love you too.” And god did he mean it. Ned loved Jacob, loved him more than he had ever loved anyone. Loved him enough not to care that he was acting more like a two-hundred pound puppy, rubbing against the hand scratching behind his ear, than like a deadly assassin turned lover. Despite every hard edge and stupid decision over the years that made Jacob defy every standard for a romantic partner Ned had set for himself, Ned Wynert loved Jacob Frye. It was not a new realization, simply a recurrence of one that gave Ned the temporary nerve he needed to tell Jacob what had been rattling around in his head since the first time they had been together like this and he hadn’t fought to escape.

“Ever think about being somebody’s husband?” Ned said, trying to keep his usual calm bravado in his voice. Jacob laughed, sharp and rich and Ned clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep from smiling.

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, Neddy, but I bed blokes. And last I checked, so do you.” 

“Jacob-“ Ned took a deep breath, trashing any hopes he had to avoid this topic in particular, “I’m not sure if you’ve checked recently, but the last time I did, I’m not, exactly, your… typical bloke.” Jacob tensed slightly, and Ned knew his scarred brows were furrowed, even if he couldn’t see them in their current position.

“I mean, it would still be illegal, love.” Jacob said with a strained laugh.

“Illegal for you to marry Ned Wynert.”

“Well yeah, that’s what I said.” 

Ned heaved a sigh and closed his eyes, choosing his next words very carefully. He wriggled free from Jacob’s loosened grasp, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The tips of his toes barely brushed the cold floor.

“But you could marry Henrietta Wynn.” The name crawled from within him like some beast, long suppressed within the cage of his ribs that now slithered its way to freedom to poison anything it approached. Ned could feel no movement on the mattress, meaning Jacob had gone deathly still; never a good sign.

“Don’t wanna marry her, she sounds boring and miserable.” He said, and Ned laughed humorlessly. 

“She is, but that’s not the point.” Ned dragged his fingers through his hair as his face burned, “The point is that you could marry her.” He felt Jacob move, feel him shuffling closer and planting his feet on the floor next to Ned. Jacob kicked his legs a few times and folded and unfolded his hands in his lap, the compass tattooed on his forearm flexing with each movement. The silence stretched, seeming to grow in weight as well as length to slump Ned’s shoulders and crush the air from his lungs.

“Why…” he said finally, “would I want to marry someone who wasn’t you?”

Ned’s breath caught in his chest with a strained noise and his mouth went suddenly dry as the air between him and Jacob seemed to turn to molten metal.

“And you’re not Henrietta.” Jacob said, his voice fast and high, quickly turning Ned’s shock back into frustration. He folded his hands in front of his face, knuckles almost white, and took a breath.

“I know I’m not Henrietta, okay? Trust me, I know. Point is, Henrietta actually exists- do not interrupt me.” Ned snapped, turning to look at Jacob for the first time when he moved to correct, or cut off, or just say anything that would stop what Ned was saying, and he knew that anything Jacob said would be as effectual and disastrous as trying to stop a moving train by stepping in front of it. “Legally speaking, and only legally, Henrietta is the one who actually exists. Or existed, she might have been declared dead at this point as far as I fucking know, but either way we could use her to get married.”

Silence, absolute silence. Maddening seconds, it had to have been more than seconds, dragged by. Slower, so much slower than the stampeding of Ned’s heart. After what could have been a fraction of a second or until the next January, he looked up at Jacob, the sardonic “Well?” withering in his throat. 

Jacob was staring. His head was tilted, his brow was furrowed, and he was chewing on the inside of one cheek.

“Are you…” he finally said, still clearly collecting his thoughts, “asking me to marry you?” Ned felt every inch of skin from his collarbone to his ears turn red as a rather undignified sound slipped passed the thin line of his mouth.

“You know what, never mind. They can’t all be winners, right? Let’s get some sleep.” Ned said in a tone that he intended to sound relaxed. He turned quickly, throwing himself on the top of the pillows and blankets with no attempt made to get under any of them. His glasses pressed uncomfortably against the bridge of his nose, but Ned continued his weak attempt to appear asleep. 

“Ned.” Sweet mother of baby Buddah in a manger on the moon. Ned’s only answer aloud was a low groan. Jacob repeated himself, this time with more of a lilt, and rubbed a hand over Ned’s shoulder.

“Just let me wallow in my own misery for a while, Frye.” Ned said, muffled by the pillow he was making a lame attempt to smother himself in.

“Nope,” Jacob said, continuing the circling of his fingers, “You banned self-loathing in bed a long time ago, darling. We’re going to talk about this.” And Jacob punctuated that statement with the most irritating thing he was fond of doing. He wrapped his arms around Ned’s smaller frame, and lifted him into his lap as if he weighed nothing at all. Ned squawked, his hands landing on Jacob’s shoulders and a deep scowl furrowing his brow.

“I hate you.” Ned growled, but the concerned frown on Jacob’s face did not break into its usual lopsided grin.

“Even so, we’re talking about this.” Jacob said, only smirking slightly when Ned slumped into him, acting so much like a limp ragdoll that Jacob couldn’t even find it distracting that Ned was all but straddling his lap.

“Jacob, please. Just forget it.” And damn it if he wasn’t nearly swayed. Ned had tucked himself into Jacob’s chest, those brown eyes pleading from behind crooked glasses that only he ever got to see out of perfect place. Jacob wanted to cave in, act like Ned had never brought the whole idea up in the first place, and the indecision was pressed into his face.

“Maybe I don’t want to.” And God, the seriousness so rare to grace him in such amounts was etched into every line and angle of him would be the death of Ned. His face burned, and he hid in Jacob’s shoulder. “Maybe…” Jacob drew the pause out, and from where his cheek was pressed into his collarbone, Ned could feel his heart racing. “…we should do it. Not forget, I mean. Maybe we should get married.”

There were a few times in Ned’s life that he had longed to be struck dead where he stood, and this moment was climbing in the list. 

And then Jacob slumped slightly, the all-to-familiar look of resignation and shame creeping over him like an illness, and Ned found himself realizing for certain that seeing that sort of dejection marring the beautiful face of Jacob Frye was far worse than being struck dead. 

“Are you serious about this?” Ned whispered, as if the words were dangerous. Jacob was quiet for a long moment.

“Yeah.” 

“What if we don’t stay together?” Ned blurted out without thinking, but Jacob replied just as quickly.

“Then I’m gonna die alone anyway, because there’s no one else in the world I want to wake up next to.” His eyes were wide and brimming with passion and he was beautiful and sweet Jesus- 

They were kissing then, soft and sweet but desperate, as if that, if they managed to fill enough of the same space, they could breathe each other in and hold them closer to their hearts than anyone else would ever be allowed or could ever reach. Even once their lips separated, they only seemed to move closer together. Foreheads pressed close, arms locked around shoulders, chests flush. 

“Jacob,” Ned said like a prayer, and it almost burned with how much all of Jacob’s words rang true. The thought of spending a single night without Jacob’s warmth or living a day when the tapping at his window would be nothing but birds was painful. He could feel the words he wanted to say, the question that hung in the air, both fighting to reach the air and strangling his lungs. 

And he knew he had to say it. If Ned didn’t, Jacob surely would, and Ned had sworn to himself long ago that, if any moment such as this one were to arise, he would never be the one being asked. His days of the façade of a blushing maiden were over a decade and an ocean away. And yet, here he was; hands shaking and a flush growing in his cheeks.

“Marry me, Jacob Frye.” 

And though the words burned his lips like fire on the way out, they seemed to take with them a stone that had been weighing on Ned’s chest. A stone that only grew heavier at Jacob’s silence.

Until he grinned; wide and bright as if their entire previous conversation hadn’t happened, as if those words falling from Ned’s lips were the most wonderful surprise he had ever been gifted. And despite himself, Ned found himself smiling, too.

“Yes,” Jacob said, the careful half-whisper of his words not matching his expression, “yes, please.”

There was silence, then, though not the tense, fragile silence that Ned was used to. This was gentle and easy and safe, with a warmth that only grew once the quiet was transformed by the bright laughter of both men. They curled beneath the blankets soon after, the newly extinguished candles making the room smell slightly of smoke. 

Absently, Ned’s thoughts nearly drifted to his abandoned book, until he was pulled into Jacob’s snug embrace, feeling his smile against the back of his neck.

It was a sort of vulnerability that Ned could get used to.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's my first contribution to the wonderful ship that is Ned and Jacob! I'll hopefully add more to the collection soon!
> 
> Credit for Ned's... creative... exclamation comes from the PokeTuber Dookieshed, specifically his '_____ will fuck you up' series.


End file.
